


(guinea) pigs in blankets

by sirnando



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24473218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirnando/pseuds/sirnando
Summary: It wasn’t a cat. It was a smaller, tailless, rat-resembling version of a cat, but it was still fluffy. Fluffy meant good, that’s what Venom had learned, and fluffy would still mean a happy Eddie.-Eddie and Venom adopt a guinea pig.
Relationships: Eddie Brock/Venom Symbiote
Comments: 18
Kudos: 235





	(guinea) pigs in blankets

**Author's Note:**

> the name of the guinea pig I took out of Dr. Dolittle // i could adopt one myself if i really wanted to at this point after all those google searches

They agreed to adopt a guinea pig.

It was really more like Venom begging Eddie in a pet shop, threatening to bite a parakeet’s head off in a crowd if he didn’t oblige, but Eddie liked to say it was a mutual agreement. 

They were in the store buying cat food that day. A stray had begun popping around the apartment complex a few weeks back, mewing and circling them every time Eddie returned home. Venom was still a bit shaky on the whole ‘which animals they could eat’ thing, but it didn’t ask when the cat arrived. Eddie liked the creature—Venom knew because it could sense the neurotransmitters humming through Eddie’s mind and heard him softly talking to it. But the cat didn’t want to go inside.  _ Feral _ , that’s the word Eddie had used when he tried to pick it up and it hissed. “Probably born a stray.” he’d shrugged it off, but Venom felt the tinge of disappointment. 

So instead of bringing it home, Eddie decided to buy food for it,  _ just _ to make sure the little guy was being well-fed. 

+++

There were no cats in the store. Venom had forced Eddie to walk the perimeter in the name of ‘exploring,’ yet nothing turned up.

**But it says** **_cats_ ** **—right there.**

“Well, yeah, but that’s just a sign for the cat supplies. Doesn’t mean there’s cats  _ in _ here.”

**That is very misleading.**

“I mean, not really, Vee. The general public understands that distinction.”

**Well I did not understand it.**

“Yeah, but you’re not really  _ general _ , now are you.” Venom hummed through Eddie’s veins in agitation.

It noticed the guinea pig section right as they were approaching check out. Venom took over motor control of Eddie’s legs, ignoring his protests, and situated them right in front of the cage. 

They were funny—that’s the first word that surfaced.

**They do not look like pigs** . 

Eddie didn’t respond, because Venom had made an observation which made sense. It was entertaining, really, because ever since Venom had shown up and started pointing out it’s sources of confusion—it turned out that humans did not make a lot of sense, most of the time.

There were 5 guinea pigs inside, all with wood chips clinging to their bodies, snorting and squeaking and running around. Chubby blobs of fur.

**What a stupid-looking thing.**

**We want one.**

It wasn’t a cat. It was a smaller, tailless, rat-resembling version of a cat, but it was still fluffy. Fluffy meant good, that’s what Venom had learned, and fluffy would still mean a happy Eddie. 

One of Venom’s tendrils began slinking into the cage, circling around the animals, choosing, but Eddie swatted it away. 

“You can’t just snatch one, Vee—that’s not allowed. I also do not remember agreeing to do this."

Cue the threats about the parakeets.

They were very convincing, evidently, because Eddie left the pet shop with a bag of cat food, a brand-new cage, and a brown and white guinea pig in a box, that Venom carried gingerly. 

**_Rodney._** That’s what it would be named.

Venom had quite liked that movie.

+++

They set some ground rules upon returning home, conditions which Venom had to abide by. 

For one, this was Venom’s pet and Venom’s responsibility. It would have to feed, brush and clean Rodney’s cage itself—no using Eddie’s body for those tasks.

Secondly, the thing stayed in the living room. 

**But he might get lonely.** Venom could be empathetic when it needed to be, and loneliness was its weakness—no matter the creature.

“It’s a guinea pig. It’ll be fine.”

**_It_ ** **has a name.** They would have to work on that, Venom noted.

Tiny tentacles sprouted out from Eddie’s thighs and arms, coiling themselves around his limbs and quivering slightly, the ones on his legs creeping up closer to his crotch. Eddie stiffened. It felt good. It  _ always _ felt good—like one large vibrator you could wrap yourself into. This was how Venom begged.

“Fine.” Eddie shook the feeling off and sighed. Rodney would live on the dresser.

+++

Keeping Rodney in the bedroom served a second purpose.

Venom loved Eddie, could watch Eddie sleep forever, but a change in scenery would be nice, it wouldn’t lie. There was only so much snoring and sleep-talking one could endure, so having the guinea pig was a welcome distraction from wiping the spit off of Eddie’s lips.

Venom alternated between Eddie and Rodney at night, observing Rodney more closely now. 

Rodney slept a little sometimes, curled up into a ball underneath his plastic hut, but there were times where he stayed up the whole night. He had very good hearing, that was the main thing Venom learned. It would scratch different sides of the cage at varying frequencies with one of its tendrils, and Rodney would always scamper over, tiny ears twitching. 

Rodney didn’t talk much, making an occasional squeak here and there, and he never seemed to be bored. He must’ve already managed to explore every inch of his home three times over, but he continued to sniff around curiously, always in search of something new—a crumb of broccoli he’d missed, perhaps. 

On the fourth night Venom decided it would kill for Rodney, because it loved him.

Not as much as Eddie, but he was a tough contender.

+++

Taking care of Rodney turned out to be much easier than both Venom and Eddie had anticipated.

They had a whole stock of vegetables in the fridge now—carrots, peas, lettuce and tomatoes, more vegetables than that apartment had ever seen. Venom always shuddered through Eddie’s entire body when it was carrying the food over, maw keeping as far away as possible. Human health was disgusting.

Venom swapped out the soiled wood chips on schedule, making sure that Rodney didn’t have to walk around in his own dirt and to keep Eddie from complaining about the smell. Rodney got a bath once a week—plopped into the bathroom sink and soapy bubbles lining his back. Venom would bundle him up into a blanket afterwards and hold him against its makeshift chest. Guinea pigs could catch a cold otherwise—it had checked. 

Eddie had allowed Venom to buy Rodney a few toys—mainly willow balls and pieces of bark—but no clothes. No sweaters, no tutus, no booties. Rodney was built to naturally stay warm, Eddie had explained, there was no need for him to dress up like humans. And putting a dress on a guinea pig was borderline animal cruelty.

Brushing Rodney was the best part—making sure that his fur wasn’t matted. They did not have a special guinea pig brush at first, so Venom borrowed Eddie’s instead. It took Eddie a week before realizing that the white hairs were not a sign of his own graying. 

Rodney liked being brushed—Venom could tell by the way he sat still, back bristling to the touch. Venom would brush him for hours, using long, delicate strokes, until Rodney’s coat was sparkling in the sunlight. He looked very handsome then. 

**Brush us.** The brush dangled in front of Eddie’s eyes one day, Venom waiting expectantly, head tilted slightly downwards. It was curious. And a little jealous.

“Isn’t it just going to fall right through?” Eddie asked, but Venom simply nudged the brush forward. 

Eddie tried his best, combing through softly from the tip of what could be considered Venom’s forehead to the very back, but the brush would get caught by the gooeyness of Venom’s substance, forcing Eddie to tug painfully. Venom grimaced and bared its fangs, snatching the handle away from Eddie on the third try. 

**Never mind.**

They’d keep the brushing for the guinea pigs. 

+++

“What are you staring at?” Venom’s maw had been pressed up against the cage for a while now, milky eyes mesmerized. 

**He is cleaning himself.** Venom replied, still transfixed.

Eddie grimaced, turning back to the computer. “God, Vee, why do you like  _ looking _ at that.” Venom had used the phrase when referring to the  _ inside out  _ type of cleansing before. 

The memory flashed across Venom’s own consciousness.  **No, not that kind.**

Rodney was on his hind legs, licking his front paws. He’d already finished his back, his belly, and swiped at his snout, letting out tiny sneezes in the process. 

**Why don’t we lick ourselves?** Venom broke its gaze from the cage to Eddie across the room. 

It was a fair question, honestly, something Eddie had never considered before. “I assume it’s because it’s unsanitary. There’s bacteria accumulating on our skin that I don’t think we’d want in our system.”

**I can protect us from anything, battle any germ.**

It was quite difficult to battle a symbiote using logic, when said symbiote was countering with quite reasonable points, but Eddie settled for, “My tongue isn’t long enough to reach everywhere I need.” That should be a sufficient explanation, Eddie thought, and he gave himself a mental pat on the back for wriggling out of the situation so cleanly. 

**But our tongue is long enough.**

Fuck. 

+++

It took a while, but Eddie eventually warmed up to Rodney. Venom was very persistent in convincing Eddie to love the animal as much as it did, constantly plopping Rodney into his lap and asking,  **Isn’t he beautiful?**

He was cute, Eddie would admit. It was a little loopy, and a little smelly, but he couldn’t really hold that against the little guy—Eddie could technically be described the same way. 

He still struggled with the distinction between  _ it  _ and  _ he,  _ but Venom would poke at his sides each time a mistake was made. They’d get there some day.

Eddie had even softened up enough to let Rodney roam around the apartment now—supervised by Venom, of course. Venom had convinced Eddie using his usual methods and a well-thought out argument:  **He might contract depression.**

It was a new word Venom had heard not too long ago—one that meant “very sad.” It hadn’t bothered to do much research, evidently, and the context seemed to fit here. 

“You can’t contract that.”

**There’s a first time for everything.** Another phrase it’d recently absorbed. 

And Eddie budged after that. It was quite easy for Venom to get its way. 

Rodney seemed to enjoy his little adventures, scurrying around and sniffing everything in his path. Venom followed after, naming every item he poked his nose into. It was good practice for Venom, actually, and Eddie was always listening in, correcting its mistakes.  _ It’s toothbrush, not toothcomb. We call it a couch, there’s no ‘r’ in there.  _

Rodney had crawled into Eddie’s shoe at one point, during a moment of inattention, and left some pellets inside. Eddie stepped into them, of course, mistaking the feeling for pebbles at first, and he was preparing to yell at them both before Venom wrapped a tentacle over his mouth.

**He did not mean it.** A second tentacle stretched over to the bedroom, plucking Rodney out to be held up to Eddie’s face.  **He is saying sorry.**

Venom may have mentioned at one point that one of his extraterrestrial abilities was to understand animal-speak—Dr. Dolittle style. Eddie had bought the explanation. Hadn’t even questioned it, really, because anything was possible nowadays, and Venom quite liked spinning this lie. Rodney was  _ very  _ talkative in its world. 

The tiny thing was still hovering there, whiskers tickling the tip of Eddie’s nose, beady eyes blinking blankly. A shadow of a smile tugged at Eddie’s lips, betraying him, and Venom seized the opportunity by pressing Rodney into Eddie’s cheek—a guinea pig kiss. 

“Fine—you’re forgiven.” You couldn’t stay mad at that. 

+++

Unsurprisingly, sex with Venom was quite exhausting. Lethal, actually, but Venom never allowed Eddie to actually die, just dangle on the edge of death before passing out.

And Eddie was like one of those little kids who had their life flash before their eyes the first time their dad tossed them up into the air, but once he was back down, he was screaming  _ more more more! _

So yeah, they had sex a lot.

It’d been a while since they last had it, though. With Eddie still searching frantically for a job and Venom preoccupied with training Rodney to jump through hoops—it was using the metal lid of a mason jar—both of them settled into bed entirely drained, mutually unwilling to partake in something that required substantial physical activity. 3 weeks had passed, to be exact—since the day they had adopted the guinea pig. 

Eddie was tired of waiting. He could only hold out on his human impulses for so long.

“Vee?” Venom was still tending to Rodney that night, making sure he was ready for his own bedtime.

**Hmm?**

“So there’s absolutely no way that I might  _ actually _ accidentally die while having sex?”

**Would you like to test it again?** And Venom was already snaking its way up Eddie’s legs, teasing at the tenting in his boxers.

This was always how it started. Eddie would admit—it wasn’t the sexiest way to get things going, but it served its purpose well. He’d always been terrible at initiating anything—Ann had been the one to spark their interactions—and  _ Fuck me, Vee _ was a great option, if Eddie wasn’t so fucking awkward about it. 

He was peeling his boxers off, Venom thrumming through his veins, preparing them both, when the sudden, unfortunate realization flickered into his thoughts.

“I think it’s watching us, Vee.” Venom stopped abruptly and covered Eddie’s whole body protectively.  _ Watching us _ was never a good sign. It meant danger, usually, but Eddie shook it off. 

“I mean the guinea pig."

**Rodney?**

Eddie swiped a hand across his face, slightly embarrassed. It was stupid, he was aware of that, but he had noticed the thing peeking out at them from between the bars of its cage and Eddie couldn’t perform with an audience, no matter the form it took on. And anyway, he was still slightly uncomfortable with the idea of something else knowing he was fucking a symbiote. Eddie wasn’t ashamed of Venom—he really wasn’t—but  _ this _ would be hard to explain to anyone, and nobody knew about it yet, including Ann, and yeah, it wasn’t like the guinea pig was going to start speaking and tell her one day, but then again—Eddie had not expected to have an alien living and fucking him about 3 months ago so—

It just felt wrong.

Dating something that had the ability to read your every thought was very convenient, Eddie noted, because halfway through his mini meltdown, Venom was already moving towards Rodney and setting the cage onto the ground, hiding it behind the foot of the bed.

Eddie had been partially right—Rodney had had his nose wedged into one of the spaces, whiskers waggling curiously, but it was a  _ guinea pig _ . Even Venom understood the ridiculousness of that, though it left it unsaid—no need to add more panic.

It returned to Eddie, tongue slithering down his throat, one of its tendrils starting to slowly stroke his cock and—

Squeaking—terrible high-pitched squealing, a sound that Rodney had never produced before.

Venom rushed back to him, its turn to panic now. It expected the worst—Rodney’s head stuck between the bars, choking to death. Rodney upside down, convulsing and frothing at the mouth. Maybe a rat had snuck inside and was attacking him. But it was none of the above, because the moment Venom’s head appeared before him, the screeching stopped.

Rodney blinked at Venom, itched his belly, acting as if nothing had happened. Venom slipped a finger-like appendage into the cage and pat his head twice before sliding back to Eddie. The squealing started again.

“Maybe he’s hungry.”

**There is a piece of carrot lying in there. We saw it.**

“Thirsty?”

**We filled the bottle an hour ago.**

Venom hovered back over the cage, staring at Rodney stare back at him. It was odd behavior, unlike anything he’d ever done before. Maybe he was scared, or maybe he  _ was _ watching, unhappy with being interrupted...

Either way, Venom could only think of one solution to the problem, desperate to return to Eddie. 

**A bedsheet.**

Venom searched through the closet looking for one, and draped it over Rodney’s cage after placing it back onto the dresser. It was technically see-through, but it covered up any of Eddie’s suspicions, while Rodney could continue doing, whatever it was he was doing, without the screeching.

**Does this work?** Yeah, it worked, but now Eddie’s dick refused to. 

_ Nerves _ , that’s what he said it was. They would have to try again tomorrow. 

+++

**We should buy a leash for him. I saw them on the Internet.**

Eddie had laughed at that the next morning—he’d seen leashes in his search history, and was just waiting for Venom to bring it up  _ casually. _

If you had asked Eddie a few months ago whether he’d be willing to buy a leash for a guinea pig—whether he was willing to  _ buy _ a guinea pig at all—he would’ve rolled his eyes and called it nonsense. He was an esteemed, hard-working man who needed to keep his reputation up. There was no room in his life for ridiculous suggestions like that. 

But things had evidently changed, and all that was left of that was ‘man.’ Eddie was just a man, looking for a job, trying to balance saving the world on the side. Nothing more than that. Therefore, indulging Venom in another one of its fantasies was far from irrational." 

“Yeah, you know what, let’s get Rodney a fucking leash.”

So if you ever saw the guy walking his guinea pig on a leash through the neighborhood, and thought,  _ damn he must be absolutely crazy _ —just wait till you find out he was fucking an alien.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> xoxo find me on tumblr @tomhardey


End file.
